Watch the tourists: dripping sweat, crisped to crimson by hours in the sand, stumbling like zombies along Lincoln Road. Suddenly, they're drawn in. Maybe it's the cool aluminum look of the place, the promise of chill air. Maybe it's that blue umbrella, beckoning: Gelateria. Life returns to their watery eyes as they scan the tubs of fresh-made, silky-smooth gelato. But wait. Confusion. What in hell is that, sitting in the martini glasses in front of each row of gelato? Guanabana? Tamarind? Rice pudding? Rice pudding gelato? If they're brave, they order the mysterious milky-white gelato under the rough-barked tamarind root or the off-white guanabana. They glance around, uncertain, wavering before lifting that first spoonful to the tongue. And then the flavor hits. That's what a happy tourist looks like. That's the power of excellent gelato, spun into otherworldly flavors and made fresh.